Falling Down
by Failure Turtle
Summary: Even Prince Charming has his flaws. People are allowed to make mistakes. JeffxOC one shot


**A/N: Eh, I started a new JeffxOC story, and I feel that it has the potential to be my best work…ever (which currently is "Addiction is a Curse"). It's going to be rated M, but not for sex or anything. The girl who requested it wanted some pretty heavy stuff (and I have a very dirty mouth), so that's why it's like that. Check my profile for the easy link instead of searching.**

**For the wonderful and amazing Cara Mascara :)**

I'm not Prince Charming.

Fairytale princes don't have random colored hair. They save princesses from dragons in towers instead of grasping title belts while scaling ladders. I'm not climbing those to save Rapunzel, and those ladders are definitely made out of metal and not hair.

I'm pretty far from all of that.

I guess it sucks that my girlfriend is ob-fucking-sessed with princesses.

That's too cliché for me. I need change. Similarity bothers me.

But it's kind of hard to carry the love of your life off into the sunset while you're corkscrewing off of scaffolds. I don't think that Cara would like that very much.

She's going to be so disappointed in me…

Like I said, I'm no Prince Charming, but I try.

Prince Jeffrey made a mistake.

You're familiar with Snow White, right?

Well, let's just say that this time, the prince took a bite out of the poisoned apple.

_Once was a man who consumed his place and time  
__He thought nothing could touch him  
__But here and now it's a different storyline  
__Like the straw his is clutching_

Sixty days.

I refuse to flat out lie to Cara. But I mean, I don't have to _tell_ her about my suspension…

She's smart. She'd figure it out. She'd be like, "Jeff, why are you home? Don't you have a show?"

I'm supposed to be on the road over three hundred days a year. I think she'd catch on.

Now that I think about it, I've never dyed my hair gray. Yeah, that sounds silly, but it fits so well. I like to be color coordinated.

But then I sit and try to figure out where it all went wrong.

Am I fucked?

Oh, you better believe that I'm fucked.

_Why has the sky turned gray?  
__Hard to my face and cold on my shoulder  
__And why has my life gone astray?  
__Scarred by disgrace, I know that it's over_

I refuse to blame it on my mother's death. That's just silly.

But it makes me feel even worse. I know she'd be so upset with me right now. Still, I'd rather have her alive and mad at me than…well…

You know.

Chipped knees…chipped elbows…It hurts! I may be crazy, but I'm not impervious to pain.

I find it ironic that I'm suspended for painkillers. Hello, I'm a fucking professional wrestler. I get hurt more in one night than most people do in their lifetimes, and that includes physical _and_ emotional pain. Of course I'm going to need something to take it all away.

It's not like I'm pumping the 'roids. Now, Batista on the other hand…

Ahem. Carrying on…

_Because I'm falling down  
__With people standing 'round  
__But before I hit the ground  
__Is there time? Could I find  
__Someone out there to help me?_

Time to find out if I'm going through this alone.

I don't think she'll leave me, but…

There's always a chance, right?

She's sleeping right now. Eh, I'll wake her up.

I brushed her purple and green dyed hair out of her face. Yeah, I hooked her up with the sweet hair colors. They're both of our favorite colors. Makes sense, I guess.

"Cara, wake up," I whispered as I shook her awake.

"Hmmmm," she mumbled. I kind of feel bad about this. But fellas, back me up here. Would you rather break the news to your girl while she's awake and alert or while she's not in her right frame of mind? I'll take the latter on that one. At least she's too tired to throw a snow globe at me like last time.

That was bad.

"Baby, I'm suspended for painkillers."

"What?"

"Two months."

"You're going to be home for two months?" she whispered, still not opening her eyes. Damn, she's so cute in her Disney Princess pajamas. She's such a dork, but I love it.

"Yeah, I am."

"Yay," she breathed. "Now go to sleep. It's late."

Yes ma'am.

_Howl at the wind rushing past my lonely head  
__Caught inside its own motion  
__How I wish it was somebody else instead  
__Howling at all this corrosion_

I'm actually quite comfortable in this situation. If you don't understand, let me explain.

I have one chance left.

I'm in my comfort zone there. I'm a risk taker; a gambler. This is a piece of cake for me.

I live by one and done.

One more catch, and I'm fired.

One botched Swanton, and I'm dead.

Yet I do it anyways.

See a pattern?

Am I worried that I lost fans for this? Well, I wasn't worried when the crowd was against me the day I had to give up my Intercontinental Championship to Jericho, and I'm not worried now. Well, they didn't know about the suspension yet. If they did, I'm sure I would have had a soda or two thrown at me.

Then again, I'm not Paul Heyman.

And if I lose fans for this, sucks for them. They lost out on cheering for the most energetic guy they'll ever see. And I'm okay if they decide to bail on me.

They weren't true fans, anyways.

But it still worries me.

Everyone was behind me.

One mistake, and they're running like dogs with their tails between their legs.

Now I'm worried. I was always so lucky to never really hurt myself in the ring…

What if my luck is running out?

_Why did the luck run dry  
__Laugh in my face, so pleased to desert me  
__Why do the cruel barbs fly?  
__Now when disgrace can no longer hurt me_

I think these two months will be good for me.

I'm out of the public eye.

Peroxwhy?gen can record some stuff, maybe. I can make some new artwork that I've been meaning to get to.

But if I fall down harder, who is going to drag me out of this hole? I don't expect Cara to be there forever, you know? A girl can only take so much.

_Because I'm falling down  
__With people standing 'round  
__But before I hit the ground  
__Is there time? Could I find  
__Someone out there to help me?_

I've never been in the tabloids. Stars in the tabloids don't know half the shit professional wrestlers go through.

They don't work.

They don't feel pain.

Addictions, sure, but they can just check themselves in and out of rehab at will.

I don't want to get down any deeper.

So, who is going to help me if it happens like everyone thinks?

Sure, Cara, Matt, and the guys will help me. But others can only do so much.

I just need to pull the parachute before I hit the ground.

I need to put the damn slipper on Cinderella's foot.

_Because I'm falling down  
__With people standing 'round  
__But before I hit the ground  
__Is there time? Could I find  
__Someone out there to help me?  
__I don't know why  
__I don't know, here I go_


End file.
